Giselle
by ForgottenIncapability
Summary: A phantom that is obsessed with a ballerina ...
1. Default Chapter

Giselle

1st Chapter "Sing for me - once more"

Nervous, stumbling steps echoed from the damp walls. The candle cast spooky shadows onto her tensed face. He stared onto her neck while trying to keep pace. She stopped abruptly. Thoughtlessly, he collided with her. He noticed with some surprise how firm and muscular her small body was. He stepped back, looking ashamed. She turned around in indignation. When she noticed him blushing furiously, her whole expression became one of disdain. She looked down into the dark depth and closed her eyes shivering. When she opened them again, her voice was quivering. "This is as far as I dare go."

Raoul swallowed uneasily and looked at her expectantly as though he was hoping she would redeem what she had said. When nothing happened he said "thank you", took off his jacket and continued his way with desperate determination. She watched him leave in indifference.

Christine jumped to her feet when she saw Raoul standing on the other side of the iron gates, soaked. Erik smiled in triumph. "I believe, my dear, we have a guest." He threw the lever to open the gates and slowly approached the young man. Raoul lifted his chin and watched him challenging, both hands clenched into fists. Erik slowly turned to Christine. "Is that what you really want?" When she nodded, resignation crept into his face. "Then go - go with him." Hesitating, she took several steps towards Raoul. When she had almost reached him, Erik spoke again:

"Before you go, sing for me - once more." She looked at Raoul questioningly. He nodded, and she closed her eyes briefly. She seemed determined to surpass herself this last time.

_"Think of me..."_

She prepared for the last, high-pitched notes. Behind her, Erik slowly lifted an axe out of the water.

Madame Giry stepped out of a secret passageway. She sighed, seeing him next to the two headless bodies, his shirt soaked with their blood. "Ah, I see you're done." He turned to her and held the axe to her neck. His expression was amused and self-satisfied. She smiled.

"Do you want to take the axe with you?"

"Where," he asked with emphasized innocence.

Her gaze slowly wandered towards the bed and then back to his face. With a knowing smirk he dropped the axe and pulled her towards him.

A/N: For those of you who want to polish their languages, the story is also posted in German.


	2. Pointes Noires

**Giselle**

**Chapter 2 - Pointes Noires**

He awoke. For several moments, he wondered what had disturbed his sleep before he noticed that she had turned away from him. He was just about to reach for her and pull her back to him when his gaze met the two headless bodies. Maybe it would be better to get rid of the nasty sight before she awoke. Though she hadn't minded last night ...  
He smiled, reliving the memory, while he took care of the bodies. Upon his return, his eyes fell upon a pair of unfinished black _pointe _shoes. He took them up and suddenly felt the velvet material of his seat in box five...

_... down on the stage she was dancing the most beautiful Juliet the Opera House had ever seen. Her movements held a sadness that seemed very much unlike her youth._

_Her shining eyes were aimed at nothing, and she seemed to dance only for the moment. The tutu swayed silently to and fro, while her perfection caused devotional silence. The black pointes, into which she had forced her well-trained feet, were clearly silhouetted against her white legs.  
Only every now and then he managed to tear his gaze away from her, and what he saw made him shake with rage._

_There was no one in the audience who wasn't addicted to her devotion and whose eyes did not burn upon her. Especially in the eyes of the young men Erik could read more admiration than he would have liked. _

_They, too, couldn't detract themselves from her paralysing effect and lost the controll over their features. The whole opera breathed like one being, only existing to admire her. His hands painfully clenched into the cushion of his seat. He knew she belonged only to him - but the way the men looked at her nearly drove him mad. Abruptly, he stood up and left the box, ran into her dressing room and concealed himself behind her paravon to wait for the ending of the performance._

_Even there he could smell her perfume and again, his jealousy crept threw his venes. After some time he heard the thunderous applause and he sighed in relief. Those men wouldn't be able to savour her look much longer._

_The door was silently opened and he heard light footsteps approach the paravon. A man's voice droned though the dressing room and he flenched. "I would like to introduce you to somebody." She turned around with a smile. "Yes, of course," she said._

_Another man entered the room. Erik sensed his unpleasant aura. She held her hand out to him who seized it prepossessingly and led it to his lips. "Comte de St. Ives at your service. I would like to ask for your grace once more." His smile did in no way hide his salacious thoughts. Erik clenched his fists and had difficulties to keep himself from doing evil things to the Comte that made him smile maliciously._

_"If you would accompany me..."_

_She seized her cloak from the paravon. Erik gasped. Then she left the room with the Comte and the opera manager. The last thing Erik saw was the Comte's hand resting dangerously close to an indecent part of her body. Even Erik only touched this part only in the dark._

_Some hours later he sat on his bed, staring at his hands and imagining the most terrible things. He didn't want to think about what she might be doing with the Comte right now. Hounded, he trembled nervously. Suddenly her steps broke the tensed silence. He jumped to his feet immediately._

_"Where have you been?" His voice echoed from the walls of his cave._

_She raised her eyebrows questioningly._

_"I was in your dressing room - so don't play games." The rage he had felt during the last hours was now breaking free and he wanted to load it upon her with all the spitefulness he possessed._

_"Did you not like my dancing?"_

_"I told you not to play games." His expression didn't allow any objection any more._

_She smiled seductively. "Do you really need to know this?"_

_"He touched you. He touched you everywhere. I can still smell him on you. It's disgusting."_

_She put her hands around his neck. "How can you be so sure about that..."_

_He closed his eyes. "You will not put me off of it... not like this... I asked you where you have been!"_

_She leaned in to him and looked deep into his eyes. "The night is too short to spend it like this..." He got the hint immediately. A knowing smile crept onto his lips. "You seem to be using this night very intensively." She sighed. "Let me show you how intensively..."_

_oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

_He was angry that he had given in. Then he turned around to her and brushed some hairs out of her face. She lolled satisfied and smiled at him. He bent over to her and kissed her ear. "If you ever dance for another man again...", he whispered with a calm voice._

_For one moment there was fear in her eyes. Then she kissed him, giving her approval._

She awoke. She pulled the sheets aside and looked at her sore feet. Once again she had danced for him half the night, as she always did. He handed her a pair of new, black pointes. She took them and looked at them. "I have worked on them. So that you won't even feel the blood any more."

**A/N: Sorry, we forgot: We don't own any of the characters but the Comte. If someone wants to use him, please ask. If not, we're fine. We understand it. We don't like him either.**


End file.
